


Coup de Grâce

by Diamantspitzhacke (RedSoleWrites)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Karl-centric, No Beta We Die Like L'Manbergians, Spitefic, because i was asked to produce Karl angst and so i deliver, hey! improvement! nobody died!, however! jimmy is excellent friend and can do no wrong, i do not enjoy the name tagging here but i will deal with it for now, i'm sorry but jimmy is only mentioned, listen spitefics are fun and an untapped resource, that's progress for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSoleWrites/pseuds/Diamantspitzhacke
Summary: Karl just wants so badly to be included. Really, Dream is awesome and Karl's been wishing for ages to spend more time with him, especially after they've become friends.But what happens when that never pans out?What happens when "Sorry, maybe next time" never comes?
Relationships: no thank you we're all good here
Comments: 8
Kudos: 129





	Coup de Grâce

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kthuwo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kthuwo/gifts).



> Listen, do I think this will ever actually happen? No, absolutely not.   
> But is there a lack of proper angst for Karl? Yes. And so I am here to fill that void.
> 
> Please don't sue me.

“Dream! Hey! Hey, Dream!”

The masked man in green stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. Sprinting to catch up to him and the rest of the “Dream Team,” waving his arms and shouting frantically, was Karl. He finally came to a stop, bending over and panting as he fanned his homemade patchwork hoodie over himself.

“What’s up, Karl?” Sapnap asked. Out of the famous group, he was easily the one closest to Karl. The two of them had spent many an hour together just messing around, joking with each other like good friends do.

Karl smiled excitedly at them, still somewhat out of breath. “Hey, um…you’re going out on a manhunt, right?”

The manhunts. Or really, Manhunts with a capital M. These were the events that really skyrocketed the Dream Team’s popularity. Sure, Dream ruled over most of the surrounding lands in the area – with the exception of Manberg – but that was an indisputable fact that nobody could really get invested in. The Manhunts, though, were special occasions.

Every month or so, Dream, Sapnap, BadBoyHalo, Antfrost, and George would head out deep into the wilderness and play a game: Dream would run off, with absolutely nothing but the clothes on his back and the mask on his face, and his team of ‘hunters’ would chase him down. The goal was for Dream to make it into the End dimension and defeat the dragon (which had actually created a whole industry in dragon-raising in Dream’s land. The people loved the Manhunts, and so there was a consistent need for a new dragon to face in the End. Dream’s good friend Sam was the head of this guild and worked in secret with a select team to properly rear dragons. It was the absolute coolest, and Karl had always wanted to see what it was like) while the hunters attempted to subdue him before that could happen. They planted cameras all over to properly film what happened. The viewing parties for Manhunt premieres were _legendary._

The team of hunters had steadily been increasing as Dream continued to succeed despite the odds against him. What had originally started as just George against Dream first added Sapnap, then BadBoyHalo. Recently, Antfrost, an old friend of the king’s, had been added to the roster, and already he was a hit with the audience.

Karl was a massive fan of these Manhunts. From the moment he first watched one, he had been struck by the incredible skill Dream demonstrated. This was the king that everyone so revered? He could understand why. The people here were lucky to have someone so amazing as their ruler. Like, kings were people that Karl typically thought would sit back and have others do work for them and stay safe, but not Dream. Karl was a fan of Dream, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Who wasn’t?

When Jimmy had finally introduced Karl to Dream, he was over the moon. He’d never thought that he’d be lucky enough to actually talk to his hero.

Ever since that fateful meeting, Karl had actually been able to spend time with the Dream Team. He’d made friends with Sapnap, even. He’d been there for Dream’s duel against _the_ Technoblade, cheering him on the whole time. He’d participated in events side-by-side with him. How was this his life?

Still, the one thing Karl had never done – that he had always dreamed of – was be a hunter in a Manhunt. He’d bided his time for ages. When Antfrost had gotten his big break as the fourth hunter, Karl knew that he’d have to wait for a while longer before asking to be included. Considering how much time he’d been spending with the whole Dream Team, Karl considered them to be pretty good friends. Hopefully his chances of getting in were high.

This was his chance. If this really was the next big Manhunt, then this was the time for Karl to ask. Antfrost had been in a couple by now, there could totally be a new person added to the roster this time!

He’d been gathering his courage for ages. So when Dream replied, “Yeah, we’re just finishing our final bits of packing and then heading out!” Karl knew that this was the time.

Fidgeting nervously, he took a deep breath. “Umm, I have a question…”

Dream looked at him. Though Karl couldn’t tell what his expression was behind the smiley-faced mask, he thought Dream was intrigued. Maybe it was something in the tilt of his head or the line of his shoulders, but Karl was feeling optimistic. “Do you think that maybe…IcouldgoonthisManhuntwithyou?” he rushed out.

“Huh?”

Karl inhaled deeply and looked down towards his feet. “Do you think that I could go on this Manhunt with you?”

What Karl received in response was not the enthusiastic agreement he had hoped for, or even a sigh and an acquiescence. Instead, he watched, heart sinking, as the various members of the Dream Team looked away from him, rubbing their necks or fiddling with their gear. Dream adjusted his mask.

Bad spoke up first. “Look, Karl, um…”

“The thing is…” George trailed off.

“We’ve already figured out all the logistics for the four-person Manhunt this time, buddy. And adding a fifth member so suddenly isn’t what we’re going for with this one. It’s not the right time,” Dream explained. “Maybe next time.”

“Sure thing!” Karl agreed, though the cheer he injected into his voice was noticeably false. “Next time!”

“Next time.”

Walking home, alone, dejected, Karl kicked at the pebbles in his path. His hands were jammed deep into the pockets of his multicolored hoodie. “Come on, Karl,” he reprimanded himself. “You sprung that on them way out of nowhere! They were already halfway out the door. There wasn’t any time for them to get ready for another person. Besides, they said next time. There’s no use being sad about it.”

He tried for lightheartedness, but it was superficial. A chipped coat of nail polish over ragged nails. Which, he supposed, looking down at his hands, was fitting. His own nails fit that description well. He’d worried them down to the quick in all his anxiety over planning to ask for such a big thing. _Come on, you’re better than that, Karl._

It hurt, being rejected like that, but Karl could understand. Like, he was sure Dream didn’t know how big of a deal this was to Karl! Of course not! He hadn’t really talked about it much – _except for when you rambled about it to him over and over_. Dream was a busy guy – _and you were asking to help with one of his responsibilities_. Really, Karl couldn’t hold it against him – _of course you can’t, you already knew this was going to happen_. No, he was fine!

Totally fine.

The Dream Team returned triumphantly from their Manhunt within the week, dirty and tired but satisfied and laughing together. Karl watched from a distant vantage point as they dismounted from their horses, pushing each other around and cracking new inside jokes. Antfrost mentioned something about a ravager and Dream bent over in laughter, wheezing in that teakettle way of his as George howled indignantly.

Karl smiled as he watched, even as a pang went through his chest. He could have been a part of that – was only inches away! But he’d at least get to watch the premiere event with the gang! He wouldn’t have to be crowded at some random building with strangers or sit alone in his house. Karl could watch it with his friends now!

But when he knocked at the door three days later, the big release date, to ask about a watch party, there was no answer. People were clearly inside, having a great time _without you_ if the volume was any indication, but nobody opened the door to Karl’s repeated calls. _They probably can’t hear me over whatever’s happening in there_ , Karl reasoned. _It’s not a big deal!_

_Even if they clearly invited people over and you weren’t one of them?_

“Shut up,” he hissed to himself.

Karl spent the evening of the premiere with a bowl of popcorn and a pile of blankets. It wasn’t as fun as it could have been if there had been people there to shout nonsense exclamations of awe with, but he at least enjoyed the Manhunt! It had been amazing to watch. Dream’s skills always shocked Karl more and more, pulling off plays he never would have even dreamed were possible. And the hunters gave him a run for his money, Bad getting inches from pulling off a hunter win in a repeat of the memorable time he punched Dream out.

Man, Karl wished he could have been there.

“That was amazing, Dream!” were the first words out of Karl’s mouth the next time he saw the masked man. Sure, Dream had most likely been hearing a bunch of comments like that since the Manhunt was released, and Karl could have talked about literally anything else, but he was so excited! It had been so cool! He’d rewatched it dozens of times, taking note of the coolest plays and closest shaves. “Like that time when you found the ravager mansion and totally lost the guys in there and then there were the vexes? Man, I thought they had you there, but then you-”

“I know, Karl, I was there.”

Karl deflated. “Oh. Right.” He fidgeted with a loose thread on his sweatshirt – _should probably fix that_ – as he backtracked. “You’ve probably heard this a thousand times, huh?”

Dream hummed in agreement.

“So what are the plans for today? What are we doing?”

“Um, actually, Karl-”

“Hey Dream!” came a shout from across the central pathway. George waved the king over. “Come on, man!”

“Oh, we’re going out with the whole gang? Cool!”

“Karl, actually, it was just going to be me and Sapnap and George. We’ve had this planned for a while, and so…”

A pit formed in Karl’s stomach. He smiled brightly. “I totally get it, Dream! You don’t want to change plans last minute on them.”

He could hear Dream’s exhale of relief. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe next time?”

“Sure! Next time!”

Next time came and went, as Karl tried to join Dream on an expedition to the Nether and found himself arriving at the arranged time and place to find that he’d been left behind. When he asked Dream about what happened, the only response he received was a shrug and a mildly apologetic “Sorry, we left earlier and forgot to tell you. Next time for sure!”

When he tried to tag along on a hunting trip, he was rebuffed. When he asked to hang out, he was turned away. When he finally came along on a visit to Manberg, he was quickly ignored and left behind. Karl was starting to see a trend. A dismal one that dimmed his optimistic heart.

“Next time!” became the sentence that Karl hated the most. Every time he heard it, he knew, deep down, that there would be no next time. Every single ‘next time’ was just another repetition of the one before it. The promised time when Karl could finally feel included never arrived.

The day came when Karl stopped asking. No longer trailing behind Dream, practically begging for a smidgeon of his time. No more desperate, pathetic requests for invitations.

Karl cooped himself up in his room, far away from Dream and Sapnap and George and Bad and Ant. Drawing his soft blankets around him, he huddled up on his bed and didn’t leave for a week. Why would he? Who would he leave for? Who would want him around?

His phone buzzed sometimes, playing Jimmy’s ringtone of some jingle somebody had made for him. He ignored it every time. Other times he’d hear the little heartbeat-vibration of a text from Sapnap, but he kept his phone facedown. He couldn’t bear to look at it.

The Karl that emerged from his impromptu self-isolation was quiet, subdued. He’d still left Sapnap’s messages unread, but he’d sent a text off to Jimmy, letting him know everything was alright. It wasn’t, but he didn’t want to worry his friend. He shuffled softly out his door, practically submerged in an oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants.

Quietly, unobtrusively, he wandered into a nearby café. The crowd there was bigger than usual, people murmuring excitedly and gathering around the TV monitors. Karl peered over a nearby shoulder, curious.

“Shh, shh, it’s starting!” someone hushed. The whispers dimmed, but still remained.

An announcement started up, flashing merrily across the screen.

**NEW MANHUNT PREMIERES SOON!**

Karl’s mood dropped further than he thought possible when the next words popped up. Edited in simple white text, as characteristic of Dream’s style as the king’s intros, were the words that hammered the final nail in the coffin of Karl’s hope. Hope he didn’t even know he still had.

**INTRODUCING NEW HUNTER: AWESAMDUDE**

A new hunter. Sam. _Sam_. Not Karl. _Sam_.

As a few clips of Sam being totally badass and awesome played, Karl tried valiantly to hold himself together. He felt – he didn’t know what he felt.

The guy next to him – Karl didn’t know him – jostled his arm enthusiastically. “Isn’t this amazing, man?”

“Yeah,” Karl replied dully. “Amazing.” He tried for a smile, but even he could tell that he failed miserably.

The man either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Karl’s out-of-place emotional state. Karl shrugged him off and turned to walk out the door. Glancing back one last time to see Sam joking around with the Dream Team, all of them with smiles on their faces and laughter in the lines of their bodies, Karl inhaled shakily and shuffled out.

His feet led him aimlessly onwards as he processed what he’d just seen. Dream had said next time. He’d said next time. Next time. _Next time never comes for you, Karl. It always passes you by_.

Someone coughed to his right. Startled, Karl looked up, catching the eyes of President Schlatt of Manberg. “Um, hi Schlatt.” Karl really wasn’t in the mood for this right now. “What are you doing here?”

Schlatt turned his head side to side, slowly, dramatically. “This is _my_ country.”

“Oh.” Now that he was paying attention, he could see the familiar landmarks that decorated the independent nation. Their White House, the Party Island, the remains of the original Camarvan.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Schlatt asked, reaching out and placing his hand on Karl’s shoulder. It felt heavy. That was the most he seemed to be able to process right now. “You seem really out of it.”

“No, yeah, I’m fine.”

Schlatt raised an eyebrow. “You wanna try that again?”

Karl stayed silent.

Sighing, Schlatt started speaking anyways. “Look, buddy, I’ll say what I’ve been seeing. You can decide if you want to respond or not. Up to you.” He inhaled deeply, leaning forwards into Karl’s space. “Because what I see is a guy, a good guy, whose friends are leaving him behind. You want to do shit with them, and you keep asking – don’t pretend you haven’t, I’ve seen it myself – and they keep making promises to you. Don’t they?”

No response.

“ _Don’t they, Karl?_ ”

The tears that had been hiding from his dry eyes suddenly flooded Karl. He half felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was tight, his throat felt sharp, and if he blinked, he was sure that a stream of tears would flow that he couldn’t stop. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Schlatt leaned back, apparently satisfied with that response. “But the thing is, Karl, buddy, those promises are empty. You know it, I know it, and Dream fuckin’ knows it too. Why would he keep doing this to you if it wasn’t on purpose? Huh?” His eyes gleamed, so sharp and perceptive that Karl had to look away. “Come on, Karl,” he whispered lowly, “Deep down, you know it’s on purpose, don’t you?”

Karl couldn’t respond. It was every confirmation of what he’d tried to deny for ages. He sobbed once, loudly, before quickly covering his mouth. Instead, he shuddered, shoulders shaking, as he tried to stop the floodgates he’d flung open.

Schlatt hugged him close. Karl hadn’t expected that from the pristine and proper president, especially for someone who wasn’t even a part of his country, but he’d take what he could get.

Actually, Karl couldn’t recall the last time he’d been hugged.

“Oh, it’s okay, buddy. They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” Schlatt soothed. “I mean, you’re a great guy! You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re nice! Too nice, some might say.” His tone abruptly changed, suddenly sinister where before it’d been kind and paternal. “I think it’s time you change that, Karl.”

Karl pushed away from Schlatt’s embrace, shocked. Through the stream of tears rolling down his cheeks, he managed a squeaky “What?”

Schlatt’s expression was patronizing and pitiful as he looked down on the younger man. “Karl, if you keep being so nice to ‘em, do you really think they’ll ever change? No,” he barreled on, “They won’t. They’ll keep treating you like this. You know why? _Because they know they can get away with it_. Because they know that you’ll roll over like a fuckin’ doormat and let them walk all over you and you’ll be the one to apologize for it.”

Karl wanted to deny it so badly. So, so badly. But he couldn’t. Everything Schlatt was saying was true. And, some part of him, deep down, wanted to hear where Schlatt was taking this. It wanted to hear Schlatt give him the go-ahead to move past his kindness and do _something_. He sobbed again.

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay, buddy. I know it hurts,” Schlatt consoled, pulling Karl back into a hug and running one hand through his hair. “I know. It always does when someone turns out to be less of a friend than you thought. I get it. But you know what that means, Karl?”

“What?” Karl whispered softly.

“It means that you can do whatever you want to them. They’re not your friends anymore, are they, Karl?”

He shook his head.

“So you get back at them. Make them feel what you felt. Make them _understand_ what everything they did to you felt like.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Then leave them behind, huh? Move on, leave them in the dust, prove to them, to _yourself_ that you don’t need Dream and his cronies to be someone. You’re your own man, Karl. Why don’t you show the whole world that?” He gestured grandly with one arm, where Karl could barely see in the distance a high-up mountain peak. “Show them all what _Karl Jacobs_ can do.”

Karl slept uneasily that night, too focused on his tumultuous thoughts. His mind went back and forth between the good memories he had with the Dream Team, all the times he’d been excluded, and Schlatt’s words.

_Why did he have to say those things? Why’d he have to get me thinking? Why can’t I just accept it and move on?_

_Why is he right?_

“No,” Karl muttered to himself. “That’s not the right thing to do.”

_But it’s better than what you’re doing now_.

“Sitting and moping is perfectly valid.”

_But it’s not making you feel better, is it?_

“No…”

_Exactly._

As soon as he woke the next morning, helplessly tangled in blankets from all his tossing and turning, Karl scrabbled for a piece of paper and pencil. He found a battered old notebook, leftover scribbles and bits of math written in the front few pages. Karl ripped them all out.

He wrote furiously, at first a note to Dream, then descending into a ramble of all his thoughts and anxieties and memories. He filled pages, writing practically illegible in his haste – a sharp contrast to his normally neat handwriting.

Every single one of those pages, he then tore from the notebook, crumpled up, and burned. Individually. He stared at them as they withered under the flames, folding in and blackening.

The last bits of his friendship with Dream turned to ash before his eyes.

Karl nodded once, satisfied with his work, before returning to writing.

In the dead of night, a lone figure crept into the communal house at the center of Dream’s kingdom.

They took nothing.

They left nothing.

Nothing except for a single note, written crisply on thick stationery.

_Dear Dream,_

_Effective immediately, I will be taking possession of a sizeable portion of land to the South of your kingdom to start a new country._

_Your citizens, as well as any citizens of any other nation, are welcome to apply for citizenship to Rutabag-ville upon the completion of its borders and Constitution._

_I am happy to enter into peaceful diplomatic relations with your kingdom, though a fully realized agreement will have to wait for the full foundation of Rutabag-ville._

_Regards,_

_Karl Jacobs_

Karl’s foray into country-creation remained unmolested for three weeks before _anybody_ showed up. Which, really, that just confirmed what Schlatt had told him. If it took them this long to realize that he was gone, they clearly hadn’t cared enough to look in the first place. Hell, Karl had even told Dream where he was going, and it still wasn’t enough for the masked man to do anything.

In those three weeks, he’d gotten a lot done. He was proud of himself and all his work! It was surprising how much work he could get done when he wasn’t worried about other people. The isolation was healing, in a way, he supposed.

A basic border had been the first to arise under his efforts, just a mountaintop from a Nether portal and situated nicely in the snow. The snow brought Karl joy: fluffy, fun, frozen, free. It made him wish for times long gone sometimes, but then Karl would remember why he’d moved on, and his resolve would reaffirm itself.

Built of fences and towering high, Rutabag-ville’s border was vastly different to the former walls of L’Manberg. This was not imposing and dark; it was light, allowing vision through to the other side. His new country didn’t look forbidding and closed off. Rather, it was airy, in a way, covered in snow and wide-open.

It was perfect.

With the border done, Karl moved on to gathering resources, preparing for any eventuality. Buildings would need materials, and Karl himself would need armor and weapons in the case – however slim – that Dream showed up and took issue with Karl’s newfound independence.

Grinding and grinding for hours eventually led Karl to surprising amounts of prosperity. He appeared to have chosen an ore-rich mountain to build upon, quickly gathering many diamonds and an abundance of iron. The nearby Nether portal meant days spent in the hell dimension searching for scraps of coveted netherite, but Karl was persistent. He emerged triumphant in five days, enough of the precious metal collected to fully kit himself out.

He started building a new home for himself first, training for battle all the while. There were no breaks for Karl, just work and a slightly different kind of work. He drafted up paragraphs for a Constitution in his head, running through lines as his body ran through drills. As soon as he finished his house, decorating the lavish lodge with cozy fireplaces and plenty of blankets, the very first thing he did was sit down at his desk and put his pen to paper.

Still, three weeks passed, and just as Karl was finishing the frame for the very first government building in Rutabag-ville (he didn’t have a name for it yet, but he was going to be creative and choose something other than “the White House”), the Dream Team showed up.

Dream led the group in all of his masked glory, standing proud with his axe slung over one sweatshirt-clad shoulder. Sapnap and George flanked him, one of them looking noticeably more reluctant and apologetic than the other. Bad, Ant, and Sam fit inside the V-shape, fully coated in armor and with glimmering enchanted weapons sheathed across their bodies.

Karl turned to face them from where he’d been working. He didn’t have his typically cheerful grin when he greeted them. Instead, he was stone-faced, cold, just like the mountain he was standing on, founding a country on. “Dream.”

“Karl.”

They held a silent standoff for a few moments before Dream took another step forward, approaching the fence. Karl beat him to it, taking Dream’s movement as a signal to glide across the snow and hop over the fence. He crossed his arms over his chest, sword sheathed over his back.

“What the hell, Karl?” Dream exclaimed suddenly, gesturing wildly. “Like, actually though, what the fuck? Why? Why would you just randomly decide to move out and just make a brand new country?”

“Huh? Oh, so now it suddenly matters to you?”

“What?”

“I’m just saying, the one time you actually come to find me, and it’s because you’re mad or whatever?”

“Mad?” Dream spluttered. “Karl, you can’t just do this shit! You can’t just walk over to a piece of land and say ‘this is mine now!’”

“But isn’t that what you did?” Karl questioned faux-innocently.

“Oh my god, what? Karl, when I did that, it was brand-new! There was nobody here!”

“I didn’t see anybody here when I showed up.”

Dream pointed aggressively at the Nether portal in the distance. “You see that? That doesn’t just show up. That means that somebody was here. And I know for a fact that that somebody was me!”

Karl hummed. “Sure, Dream.”

Dream slipped his axe from his shoulder and hefted it. A threat. “Look, Karl. There’s still time to go back on this. You know what happened to the last people who tried to do this.”

“Dream,” Sapnap tried, but the king shrugged him off.

“Just take…whatever this is down, and come back, and we can forget this ever happened.”

Karl’s eyes flashed. “You mean like you forgot me?”

The sudden change in subject shocked Dream. “What?”

“Oh, so we’re playing dumb, then? Alright, _Dream_ , let me jog your memory. Day after day, I asked for one simple thing. Super easy, right? All I wanted was to spend time with you. That’s it. And every single time, you know the response I got? ‘Next time, Karl! Next time!’ Well I seem to have a very different definition of ‘next time’ than you, since next time never came!” He was breathing heavily, ranting. “Every single fucking time, you forgot me! Left me out! Every! Single! One!”

“Karl, I-”

“No, it’s my turn to finally say my shit, Dream! I’m fucking done with waiting around! So I’m leaving that all behind! I’m moving on! You know, like you clearly wished I would! But _no_ , apparently the second I try to do something for myself and move on, you suddenly show up, with your whole ‘Dream Team’ and try to drag me straight back to that! Not gonna happen!”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t want a gold digger hanging around with me!” Dream shouted back. Sapnap gasped. “Yeah, that’s right, I fucking said it! You only showed up after I got famous! All you wanted to do was cling to that! Everybody else here,” he waved his axe at his friends around him, “has been here with me since the beginning! I know that they’re here because they care about _me_ , not whatever fucking notoriety comes with my name!”

“I didn’t want any fame, Dream! Money doesn’t matter, the fans didn’t matter, none of that! I just wanted to spend time with you! _Like friends do!_ ”

Dream was taken aback. “Karl…” he said, voice soft again.

“But apparently that was too much to ask for.” Karl looked away. “I guess I’m not good enough to be friends with the amazing and wonderful Dream. Glad we got that all figured out.” He started walking back to Rutabag-ville.

Dream couldn’t leave it like that. Not when he could see that some big mistake had been made somewhere along the line. He grasped Karl’s sweatshirt, trying to get him to turn around.

Cold, sharp metal met him instead.

Buried deep inside his abdomen, running him through, was Karl’s sword.

He’d never seen it coming.

He heard his friends scream from behind him.

Choking on the sensation, Dream gasped out, “Karl…”

The man’s eyes were as cold and sharp as his sword and the emotion Dream saw in them was so close to hatred that it was like another stab wound to the chest.

Karl dropped him unceremoniously, letting him slide off his sword with a wet squelching noise. Blood was gushing faster as Dream laid on the snow, staining it a deep red. George slid next to him, holding his hand out as Sam produced a potion from nowhere. “Hold on, Dream, you’re going to be okay, just hold on, okay?” He uncorked it with his teeth, one hand always holding Dream’s wound shut. Sapnap, Bad, and Ant followed behind George, pulling out rough bandages and performing emergency aid. Karl watched him, still as a statue as Dream bled out before him.

Dream would have responded with something appropriately witty and sarcastic, but he was still reeling from Karl’s betrayal. Had he really caused this? Had he pushed a man to this?

With his vision blackening around the edges, his eyelids heavy, George’s hands holding him together, Dream watched Karl stride back into Rutabag-ville, his steps confident and unrepentant. He held one weak hand out in his former-friend’s direction. “Karl…” he repeated hoarsely. He tried his best to put into words what he was feeling: the guilt, the remorse, how much he wished he could go back and fix everything. But with his rapidly dwindling strength, he could only managed two pitiful words.

“I’m sorry.”

And like he’d heard it, Karl turned for a split second and looked at Dream, gaze unfathomable.

“It’s too late for that now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Emotions? I have at least three. 
> 
> The Angst Gang returns triumphant, and as a founding member, I am here to provide.
> 
> I have no regrets and simultaneously many.
> 
> Also, Schlatt's motives? Who knows what those are. They shall remain mysterious, oooooOOOOOoooooo


End file.
